The End
by Summer Leigh Wind
Summary: A shadow crept into the corner of his vision, then it's before him and with a demonic laugh, Pitch Black collapsed to the ground; the world swimming into total blackness. One-Shot. Pitch-centric


_**The End**  
_

_Each Man kills the thing he loves most- Oscar Wilde_

X

Kozmotis Pitchiner loved children, they were bright, smiling, surreal beings. They were fearless and brave, they felt no pity and no reservations. They had little concept of time, every day was new and just as exciting as the last; in short, he believed them to be the hope of the world. When his wife informed him one bright (oh so bright) morning over tea and bread that she was to have a child of their own...Kozmotis lifted her up and swung her around the room. They laughed themselves into euphoria, grinning madly with a thousand thoughts of the impossible glittering in their eyes.

Eight and a half months later, Kozmotis's wife wnet into a difficult labor; it lasted almost two full days. Pacing outside their bedroom door, he looked from time to time into the open room across from their own; it's a cheery blue, accented with white and yellow. He wondered if they would ever use it. Sighing as he tugged at his hair again, Kozmotis eventually settled against his child's door-frame and dozed into sleep. Hours later, he felt a hand shaking his shoulder. Peaking open an eye, he saw the midwife's apprentice-a young thing, barely full grown, staring down at him.

"Vulpecula*..." he murmurs.

The girl's blue-slate eyes dulled, "She alright sir, but she isn't taking one of the babies' death well."

"I-" Kozmotis choked weakly, "The baby...? The _babies_?"

The girl nodded, "Aye, sir; there were two-a boy and girl, it almost seemed the stars had shined in your favor, but..." her lip wobbled. Looking away, she sniffed; "It's always so sad to have a babe die in your arms," she whispered.

Hands tumbling forward in a desperate attempt to grab her before she was gone forever, Kozmotis's crystal eyes bore into the youth's "There is a baby?"

Mouth parted just enough that he can see the crookedness of her bottom row of teeth as they jutted out, she nodded. "I-yes," Hugging her for less than a moment, Kozmotis moves past her and into the room.

The older, wrinkled, midwife is arranging the sheets around his wife; Vulpecula stared down at the infant against her bare breast with a despondent look. Halting, the man gazed at her; she is wan and her hair sticks oddly to her face-but, she is still beautiful in his eyes.

"Vulpecula?" He breathed.

Sea blue eyes find his, "Koz?" She warbled, lips tugging into a frown.

Feet moving on instinct, Kozmotis found himself at her side. "I'm here," he soothed; thin, cool fingers grasping her warm ones in an all-encompassing grip.

"One of our babies died," she whimpered.

Kissing her forehead; the man kept his eyes carefully on Vulpecula and not on the nameless child. "As long as I have you..." he murmured against her feverish skin.

Sniffling, the woman leaned her face into his neck and sobbed. Sitting down on the bed, he brought his wife and new babe awkwardly into his arms; rocking them slowly and hushing them as either whimpers. Soon, Vulpecula calmed to just the occasional snuffle. Staring straight at her (never the baby, the only light of hope they have), he asked, "Which one-which one did we lose?" He could picture both children in his mind-they were mirrors of their mother.

Her breath hitched. "Our son," she breathed.

Kozmotis felt a stab in his heart, there will be no son to love; only a daughter. Nodding, Kozmotis mumbled "Let me hold our daughter."

Slowly, Vulpecula rested back against the headboard and offered their child to him-weariness in her eyes (she expected him to judge her, judge her for their daughter living and their son dying). Staring down at the white-wrapped bundle, Kozmotis took their daughter into his arms. She weighs less than the butterflies he used to keep between his fingers as a boy. Pulling back the blanket, he saw her alabaster face and a bit of sparse blond hair atop her head; running a finger across her pink-pearl lips he whispered;

"Hello starling,"

"What are we to name her?" Vulpecula inquired.

"Seraphina," the man answered; "_My _grandmother's name."

Sighing, his wife's eyes drift close. "Watch her for me, won't you?" and she was asleep.

An eye peaked open and Kozmotis grins, her mother's mirror; he thought. "Seraphina, Seraphina..." he cooed, "You are my only daughter, I shall love you with my all and love all of you." The babe gave a tiny yawn and arched gently in his arms before releasing a deep breath and falling into sleep like her mother. Kissing her unblemished brow, he swore _I will protect you..._

* * *

Pitch Black _hated _children, they were dull, whiny, monstrous beings. They were reckless and idiotic, were selfish and allowed every thought past their lips and let them flow into action. They lacked the ability to learn from mistakes and were always getting themselves into continuous trouble from an incapability to learn from the consequences that befell them; to sum it up, Pitch wished the simpletons weren't the hope of the world-he wished each person made was an adult, no need for the ridiculousness of youth and folly. If the King of Nightmares had it his way, he would eradicate childhood.

One late, (dark, wonderfully black) night a Nightmare came to him in the place he'd stolen away to following his defeat at the _Guardians. _Pitch scrambled to get up and away from the beast, but it approached silent and still; taking his ragged sleeve between its sharp teeth; dissolving them into the shadows. They traversed the world above and Pitch saw with glittering gold eyes what the nightmares and fearlings had wrought upon the world in his absence-a world so dark, nothing but the hardiest and most resourceful beings could live meagerly. Mouth opening, Black feels a niggling in the back of his mind that whispers things; terrible, blood-thirsty things.

Soon, the Nightmare stopped and eyes darting about the desolate land; his gaze managed to find Mother Nature struggling to sit up among a dead patch of grass and briers. Taking a step towards her, the death crunched beneath his feet drawing up her ominous stare.

"Pitch.." she croaked, her once apple-red lips pale and cracked.

Smirking viciously, the King of Nightmares hissed; "I always told you all I'd destroy you all."

Her eyes watered and she threw herself at his feet. "Oh father!" she wailed, "Oh father how can this be you..."

That niggling that bothered him only hours before came back stronger than ever; kicking her away, he growled. "What gibberish are you speaking, woman?"

She sobs, red blood spilling from her bruised nose; "Don't you know what you've done? What they will have you do? They want you to destroy this world for them! Want to you, there only conqueror, to suffer for his triumph!" She moaned, fingers grasping out to him-he avoided them with a well placed step.

"You are disgusting," he sneered, "Pathetic and disgraceful!" Raising his arms to the sky, he meanders his gaze and roars; "Just like this world and its inhabitants! How they ever thought they could escape fear is beyond even _my _reasoning!"

The stricken look on Mother Nature's face appeared to crack even further. "You, Kozmotis Pitchiner, do not know what you say..."

That niggling turns to fury (but not towards her-towards _him _that fury is all for _himself_), "Shut up!" He howled, "I do not know this person you sniveling woman! _I am not HIM_!" and with savage hands he gripped her throat, "You and this planet are _dead__! _You are all that's left and I shall finish you!" He snarled. Her fingers claw at his hand desperately, but it's too late; the life left those sad, sad eyes and planet earth was no more.

A shadow crept into the corner of his vision, then it's before him and with a demonic laugh; Pitch Black collapsed to the ground the world swimming into total blackness.

X

Kozmotis Pitchiner woke in a world so dark and dead that he knew it couldn't be home. He looked around and saw a woman's body just a foot away, getting up, he made to shake her shoulder. He paused mid-movement, her dark eyes were open and unseeing-but, that's not what turned his core turn cold. No, she looked like, looked like-_Vulpecula..._but, that could not be his wife joined the stars and galaxies years ago.

He then noticed his hands' gray coloring and in flashes it all came back to him, fingers tugging and pulling at his hair as it overwhelmed him all; Kozmotis Pitchiner sobbed in terror and remorse, he knew what he did, _he knew he was a monster_!_  
_

Looking to the body with new eyes, he screamed. It was his child, his only, his star, his _daughter__! _And he _killed _her! He killed his Seraphina!

Weeping, he fell to the dead ground; the fearlings have had their vengeance and left a man broken in the wake of his crimes.

* * *

**This entire piece, built off that one little quote at the top. It's always strange to realize how far an interpretation of something can go, but, I liked how this turned out for the most part. What about you guys? Do you like this One-Shot? No? Why?**

***Vulpecula is the name I gave Kozmotis's wife in another fic called _I'll Set you up Against the Stars_**

**To my regular readers (and not so regular) I am now taking Beta requests, take a look at my Beta profile; I think I could be really helpful to new writers and beginner Fanfic writers; I already help a couple girls-Fem America 13 and Lollypop Queen. I'm helping Fem America 13 with her Hetalia pieces and Lollypop Queen with her RotG fic (maybe a few of you know it?), I'm hoping to help at least two more authors because I have found I like helping these wonderful writers :) **

**Thank you everyone for reading and please review!**


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